


A truth, buried beneath silence

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Day 1, F/M, Gen, LLF Comment Project, doubt/trust, livmilesweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12775866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: Scar has gained over the last few years. A home, a friend and a resemblance of peace. Unwillingness to loose all of this again, past experiences too, lead one to be on the lookout, though.  Modeled after the day one prompt for livmilesweek2017: doubt & trust.





	A truth, buried beneath silence

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first entry to this years LivMilesWeek!  
> I hope you like it and if you do, maybe drop me a line ;)

The sincerity of her motives never seemed as clear to him, as they were to the Major.

Was puzzled as to why a blue-eyed and blond-haired amestrian women, coming from a rich family and going to one day inherit a large portion of these riches, would pump so much money into their efforts. Why she’d saved his life on the promised day, instead of just letting him die like she ought to. Of course, he’d later learned that his presence was for her a means to scare Mustang, but doubted that this was truly the heart of the matter.

A rare show of dark humour as the Major had called it, but he knew it not to be the truth to his heart still beating.

And now, after the Major tried to get her to dance with him all night and finally succeeding, he wondered what she hoped to gain from _that_.

Every single one of the military officers had forgone the uniform tonight, though they were still so easily distinguishable from the natives of this land. The only person not sticking out like a sore thumb was Major Miles, inherited complexion and Ishvalan blood running through his veins, yet with noticeable, but not vast knowledge of the customs of his people.

Had almost schooled him once, that while he looked Ishvalan and indeed had learned a lot through his grandfather, he had been born to a Cretan-Amestrian mother and an Aerugan-Ishvalan father. None of which had looked like him in terms of complexion and eye-colour, none of which had led a life that would lend itself well to the circumstances they lived under now.

It had been a not so friendly reminder to give him time to adjust, to give him a chance to arrive in this land and get a connection to it first.

In all honesty, it had been a laboriously worded plea to give him time to let go what he’d known before, so he could completely merge in what he did now.

And though they were twirling now, a smile on his face and one in her eyes too, though her lips showed the world an expression of displeasure, he was not convinced that her motives were sincere. Did not know why she came to these lands once a year, when there was another posting she always emphasized the importance of. Why she always put so much focus on the fact that she only lends the Major to Mustangs command, when speaking with the latter.

Why she ensnared the Major through indulging him, dancing with him, trying the food he offered her, praising the work, the progress he showed her.

Watched them as the tune of the music changed, signalling the start of a new piece, breaking apart. Saw the flush on the Major’s cheeks, the hint of one on hers. Noticed that they took a little bit too long with letting go of the others hand, how they walked to the side-lines awkwardly. How they sat back down to eat with more distance than needed between them.

And later, when he walked back to his home and saw them in an alleyway, lips pressed firmly to the others at once and then speaking in harsh, whispered words. When he saw what was obviously an argument, not taking his eyes of it, imprudent or not. When he saw her storm away, seeing him and averting her gaze. When he saw the Major standing there, leaned against the wall, heaving.

He wondered if she hadn’t made it clear enough that he was her lap-dog still, and what she hoped to gain from it.

* * *

 

“Only swords, no alchemy!”

Had seen her train with recruits, Ishvalans and Amestrian alike, being not even half bad. Offered these terms for a spar himself, quietly, seeing the Major out of the corner of his eyes. Watching them.

Did not hear her answer, only saw her nod, as they got into position.

Her sabre a work of art, he had to admit that, centuries old surely. Watched as she shed her jacket, a white blouse, blue standard-military pants and the usual black-boots seemingly adequate fighting-gear for her in such conditions. He only shedding his sash and light-jacket, giving up his protection from the sun and using the time it took to choose two short swords, to get acclimated to the burning heat from above. Took his stance opposite of her, wordlessly, those curious forming an arena around them.

His eyes sweeping the crowd once, hoping to find the man who so desperately avoided the blonde since the evening he’d been witness to, wanting to show him who she really was.

And when he moved to attack, she was gone.

Heard movement behind him, turned, just in time to move out of the way of her blade, raising his own. Not a second later their weapons clashing, after she did another turn on the spot.

Had no time to admire grace, or how fleet-footed she was. Was too busy with blocking another blow, a long sweep coming from his right, barely able to block a fist with his elbow.

Pain exploding, jumping back and forcing the gears in his head to turn at the speed of her strikes.

Raised his own in time now, blocking her and freeing his other, striking. She ducked, hair flaring and distracting him momentarily by masking the side she escaped to.

Got the upper hand for a short moment when he anticipated correctly from where she would attack, blocking and able to be the one stabbing at her for once, instead of the other way around. Felt a pit in his stomach when he saw her dodge his weapon, almost inhumanly fast.

Saw her eyes dart to his hand only a moment before his next blow and was almost shocked when her blade hit the one he’d chosen at the right angle, slicing through it. Threw the useless weapon to the side in tune with the groan that went through the crowd, his second blade smacked from his hands only three blocks later.

And when he put his hands to the ground, had the earth beneath the sand rise and using it as a weapon against her, the shame for dishonouring the rules he set himself did not come.

The crowd still letting out sounds of astonishment at their fast-paced battle, saw her jump upon the structures he created, saw her move along them, the pit in his stomach deepening, opening up, demons of his past climbing up.

The world narrowing to her and him, turning black and white, the only thing he could focus on the blue of her eyes. Two of them.

Did not care to understand the emotions swirling through them, nor for the single voice shouting from the crowd now, everything drowned out by the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears.

And when he transmuted the sand around him to form a spiral upwards, too slow to catch up to her, sound and colour returned with a bang.

The tip rushed towards Miles, red eyes boring into his, shouts coming from his mouth, pleading for him to stop. Could not stop the transmutation, only watch.

She swept in from the side, her blade cutting right through the weapon he’d turned his homeland into, only a handspan away from Miles face.

Slithered through the sand and stood upright again quickly, in front of the man he’d up until now considered his friend, blocking his view, sword brandished.

Blood seeping from a cut on her shoulder and blue eyes challenging him.

* * *

 

“What the hell was this right there?!”

He’d hardly ever seen Miles angry like that, having pulled both of them into an empty building, still under construction in parts. Not pacing, like one would expect from a person when agitated, but standing with the General, fussing about the blood seeping from her shoulder.

She pushed the man to the side gently, which worked for all of half a second.

Was still looking straight at him, eyes not straying for even a second.

“What do you think you owe this amestrian wh… “

Miles interrupting before he could finish the sentence, the word his mother would have beaten him for using towards a woman. The one in question only raised one sharp eyebrow, staying where she was and holding Miles back with one hand around his wrist.

“Don’t you dare call her that!”

Shut his mouth at the other man’s anger.

After a few more almost-silent moments, filled with Miles heaving breaths and the sound of his own blood, still rushing through his ears, she spoke up.

“You set the rules for the match. Why break them?”

Crooking her head to the side, stain on her blouse growing bigger, one hand still around Miles wrist, not holding him back he noticed, but keeping him close.

“You were too fast, reminded me of something!”

Almost shouted these words, intoned them like one would an insult, but the narrowing of her eyes made it clear that she caught the truth. Miles wanted to say something again, but she talked before he could even draw breath.

“And for that you almost kill spectators? Him?”

Huffed, her eyes annoying him, the coolness in them. Blinked once, taking the time to think and then talk, an edge to his voice.

“What is it to you? The General of Briggs, the nightmare of Drachma they call you! Do you not kill? Fight? And to act like you care, like Miles is not just something you prance about with when you’re here! You dance with him and look like you bit into a lemon, kiss him and then walk away! I ask you, what for? To show the world that he’s your lap-dog? That your power is endless? You know nothing...”

Hesitated when he saw something else in her eyes, coolness melting away. Saw ice thaw and remembered the heat flushing her face a few days back, the moments of hesitation when they accidently touched. The smile in her eyes when they danced.

Heat flushed his own cheeks and he stumbled over his own accusations.

“… nothing of love. You love him! You do it because you love him!”

And now she flushed red and Miles too and for a long moment there was silence again, though he talked into it, head feather-light with the revelation having dropped from it.

“You danced with him out of love, you want him back at your mountain because of it! You really fought that night I’ve seen you! Fought with me and would have died protecting him, because you love him!”

Saw them squirm, not thinking anymore, just staring. Watched as her hand wandered from his wrist, her fingers brushing against Miles', fingers intertwining. How he faced her, took off his shades, looking into her eyes. He was forgotten by them for now, though it prudent to leave and yet was too transfixed by them.

“Is it true what he says?”

Miles sounded wistful, hopeful and Scar stared, waiting for her words, saw her fight with them.

“Every single word.”

Had not imagined that this powerful woman’s voice could be so small, so soft. So quiet.

His Ishvalan brother embraced her, softly, mindful of her wound. They did not kiss, were both shivering though, his forehead leaning against hers. They whispered, things he could not hear and felt undeserving of, understanding so much suddenly.

Feeling like a fool.

Plenty of people had tried to talk Miles into things, good or bad, and never had he relented. Had stayed true to himself and their shared goals. Only her words he’d ever heeded, words Scar had doubted to be good, if he was honest.

Now knew better, that she only ever wanted to protect Miles and give him what he wanted.

A Future. Ishval. Herself.

They turned to him again, after long moments of what must’ve been hearts beating out of their chests, probably still doing so. Miles eyes were calm now, softer and he took the words upon himself, to ease the tension, repair what he’d broken.

“Forgive me brother, for my mistrust.”

They both did.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite you to leave:
> 
> _Short comments_   
>  _Long comments_   
>  _Questions_   
>  _Constructive criticism_   
>  _Reader-reader interaction_
> 
> I reply to every comment, though it sometimes takes me a day, or two.
> 
> I thank you for reading this fic of mine through to the end. I appreciate all comments and kudos and should you want to get into direct contact with me [this is my tumblr](http://illidria.tumblr.com/)


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